Disclaimer: I do not own the official rights to the game, TF2. But I do own the game, now free on Steam! Get it today! (not an advertisement trust me) Also, this chapter was written before the Invasion Update, so the 2fort you'll be thinking of is the classic one, of course.
Team Fortress 2: The Jobs at Mann Co. Industry
The Sniper and His Morning Routine
Hello there good sir or madam! Welcome to one of the first Mann Co. tours of the century! Normally we aren't allowed to do this, but I was given the green light by the head Administrator to give you an exclusive look at what we do here at Mann Co. Industries, and finally a reason to get you to stop complaining about the ludicrous land taxes. If you still complain afterwards, you'll have to take it up with Mr. Hale himself, and I very much doubt you'd like to do that. So, without further ado, let me show you around, meet some of the employees we've come to know and love!
Sniper groaned softly, pushing the raggedy fabric he called a blanket. He was used to being woken up by the ever constant ringing of his alarm clock to remind him he was late for his profession, used to Scout walking by to annoy or prank him, and he was especially used to wild animals trying to sneak into his van to steal leftovers. He didn't expect to be woken up by a voice in his head.
Hey Sniper.
Sniper lifted himself up out of his bed, which just so happened. situated just above his dining room. He reached for his sunglasses, only to remember that he left them downstairs by the sink. He grumbled, instead picking up a large, clean, shiny knife. Waving it around, he groggily looked around for the source of the voice.
"...Who's there? I'll bash the blood out of your sorry little head if you don't leave now." Sniper groggily threatened, hardly menacing.
Calm down Sniper. Just a voice asking you to wake up. You can do that, right?
Sniper blinked, moving the sheets to his bed to the side. Ignoring his sleepiness, he managed to climb down the ladder from his bed, making sure that he wouldn't fall off and crack his skull like a fool, and took a step down onto the floor, taking in the normal sights and sounds of the van he called home. It was very small, everything was condensed into one area. A sink with a tiny mirror lied directly nearby a stove to the left side of the van, a small table for eating at the other side as well as a box for storage. The very small room was very messy as well, empty jars littering the floor and any other area that they could be placed. A half eaten steak of unknown origin laid on the table, a pair of sunglasses and an submachine gun placed carelessly next to it. Sniper walked over to the table, reaching for the SMG and pair of glasses, when a knocking sound came from the outside of the van. He picked up the submachine gun and stowed away his Kukri knife, and cautiously opened the door, automatic weapon handy. He saw nothing, but a small letter attached to the ladder leading up to his van's roof. He grabbed the letter, and retreated slowly inside of his van, closing the door. Opening the letter carefully, using his oversized steak cutter, he took out the contents, and read through.
Sniper, I got a new mission for you. Meet the team by the RED base specified in the fine print on the back, and we'll fill you in once you get there. This message will blow up in 5 seconds. ...Did I fool you? Probably not, worth a try.
-Pauling
Sniper rolled his eyes at the short message's attempt at humor, and flipped the sheet of paper over. Scanning the print for the location, he could only groan once he finished.
"Better get my camping bag." He mumbled, walking over to his sink's mirror.
After a few minutes of nothing except changing clothes, Sniper was now standing outside his van wearing a dark-green bandana circling his forehead, with his hair brushed back in a dynamic style. There was a second bandana with a lighter matching color, covering his face and one of his eyes, the sunglasses from before covering the other one. Worn over his vest was what a safari-goer might wear. His hands were covered as well now, two gloves and a watch on the left wrist. He also donned a clean tannish brown pair of pants and shoes. Finally, equipped with him was a bolt-action Sniper Rifle, his SMG, and his kukri strapped to his back. While his head was wrapped in green, the rest of his body was adorned in red clothing, symbolizing his allegiance on the battlefield. Sniper walked towards the driver's seat of his van and hopped in, starting the car, and taking off with a bit of a sputter and a puff of smoke from the engine as well as a trail of dust as he traveled down the road to his job location.
"Always 2fort. I'm a professional. Don't see why I have to stay cooped up in one map like a wallaby at the zoo when I could be off shooting down robots, or slashing at those useless Spies. Gah, waste of potential." Sniper rambled to no one in particular.
A loud thump was heard, as well as air hissing out at an alarming rate. Sniper lowered his head in annoyance, gritting his teeth.
"And the second bloody time I've had to change a tire! Road's more bodgy than a field of needles." Sniper shook his head, and left his van to replace the tire.
Sniper had finally arrived at his destination, parking his van in the middle of an old dusty field, tumbleweeds bouncing by. Sniper shut off the engine and opened the door of the van, jumping out onto the ground. The area he parked in was behind a rustic red painted wood building, appearing aged despite the color. A twin, blue painted industrial building sat directly across from it, both buildings connected by bridge which was built directly over a pool of water. Sniper reached for a door handle hidden underneath the building's thick paint, forcing it open, and walked into the building into a much more clean room, filled with glass panes and machines with multiple lights and knobs. Upon entering, Sniper was greeted with a blast of air directed at his face.
"G'morning Pyro." He said blinking, readjusting his glasses.
A person covered in a bodysuit laid down the weapon, it had used to greet Sniper, waving his hand in a friendly manner. This person oddly wore a ski hood and a scarf painted orange over its face, covering the identity of the person entirely. It also had on a knit fleece sweater with light green accents, and a weird blob thing sitting on his head that also carried the overall red aesthetic of the people and building, the blob's eyes going to the Sniper, and lighting up.
"Morning to you too Lizard." Sniper waved tiredly. Lizard, as the blob is now named, hopped up and down slightly, glad to see the marksman. "So, any clue on what our job is today?"
"Hmm… No, mmph mmm mmph." Pyro shrugged, the only clearly discernible word said being "No".
Sniper smirked. "Right, thanks anyways."
Suddenly, speakers hung around the base crackled, a rather authoritative voice clearing her throat on the other end.
"Gentlemen... And Pyro." The speakers blared.
Pyro mumbled through the ski hood in excitement.
"Your mission today is to capture the enemy's secret briefcase, or intelligence as we all are well informed, while ensuring that no harm comes to our own briefcase."
Sniper and Pyro turned to a desk, where a floating and rotating red colored briefcase was suspended halfway between the desk and the air.
"Still don't get how this box floats like a bloomin' jellyfish." Sniper sighed, scratching the back of his head.
"You have approximately eight minutes to work, starting now. More teammates and enemy mercenaries will join you soon, so stay sharp. Good luck." The voice cut off, and there was silence other than the beeping caused by the various machines in the room.
Sniper turned to Pyro, who nodded, obviously used to this introduction. Pyro picked up his flamethrower weapon, running outside. Sniper ran out the room as well, picking his Sniper Rifle from off his back, and ascending up a staircase leading outside. A loud siren was heard sounding off, and rushed footsteps crowded Sniper's hearing as he jogged outside, other employees getting to work.
"Another day, another bloody useless crate." Sniper thought as he arrived at his battle station, his Sniper Rifle at the ready.
He crouched down and stared hard into the scope of the rifle, scanning the area for any potential unwanted visitors, keeping his breathing quiet, and his finger patiently waiting on the trigger.
"...This is gonna take longer than I thought." Sniper deadpanned, awaiting an unfortunate bloke to come barreling in.
AN: I dunno, I had an idea for TF2 classes garbed in my choice cosmetics going through their jobs and lives one day and decided, "You know what? I'll go and type a story, why not?" Of course, like one of my other stories, I'd like to know if other people like the story before I continue. Thought, I might probably continue it if I really like the idea. Anyways, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to buy an Invasion Coin!